Hummingbird Lane by Brown, Carolyn (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📗

“Maybe it’s Sophie,” Filly said.

“One can only hope.” Arty glared at Filly. “I’m ready for a fresh face around here. She won’t be as hateful as you are.”

“Now, honey, you know I love your chowder even if I did call you Arthur.” Filly giggled. “Besides, you called me Ophelia.”

“You did it first,” Arty said.

“I hope it’s not someone who’s just going to turn around and go back,” Josh whispered. When Sophie was there, or when the other three trailers were filled with their winter snowbirds, things always went smoother at the supper table.

“Yay!” Filly clapped her hands. “I can see the license plate on the front of her car. Our Sophie has come home for the summer.”

The silence between them was comfortable, but during the last hour of the trip, Sophie had continued to question her decision to practically kidnap Emma and take her to an almost wilderness existence. What-ifs circled around in her mind like a hamster on an endless wheel. Emma had lived in the lap of luxury her whole life. What if she hated living with the bare essentials in a small two-bedroom trailer house? Victoria had dressed her in the best that fashion had to offer—what if she hated wearing Sophie’s clothing? What if living in a world of cactus and wildflowers depressed Emma even more and she needed medicine?

Whoa! Hold your horses! Rebel’s voice in her head was loud and clear. You saw where Emma was living and what she was wearing. I’d say what’s more important than physical things right now is that you are going to try to help her get her head on straight.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sophie whispered under her breath.

The sun had begun to drop below the mountains in the distance, leaving nothing but an orange glow over the tops of the six trailers arranged in a semicircle around a huge live oak tree that shaded a picnic table and benches. When Sophie parked in front of the first trailer on the right, Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Is this your trailer?” Emma whispered.

“This is home for the next couple of months.” A heavy what-if load lifted from Sophie’s shoulders. “The trailer is old, but Josh keeps it well maintained.”

“It’s perfect,” Emma said. “It reminds me of a tiny house.”

Sophie smiled. “It kind of does, doesn’t it? Are you ready for supper?”

Emma dropped her chin to her chest and shifted her eyes from one to the other of the two people who’d left the table. “Would it be rude if I scrounged through the cabinets and maybe got a bowl of cereal or a peanut butter sandwich and met them all tomorrow?”

“Not one bit. You are in charge of what you want to do while you are here,” Sophie answered. “That’s Filly and Arty coming this way, and Josh is sitting at the table.”

Filly was dressed as usual in a long, multicolored, flowing skirt and a T-shirt that had been belted in with a hot-pink scarf. She was barefoot, and her braids flopped around as she ran toward the vehicle. A rim of gray hair circled Arty’s bald head, and he wore his usual flip-flops, bibbed overalls, and faded T-shirt. Their smiles and open arms said they were as glad to see Sophie as she was to see them.

Emma’s eyes darted around like those of a bunny who had been caught in a circle of coyotes, and she started wringing her hands again.

Sophie’s chest tightened. Maybe she’d done the wrong thing by breaking Emma out of prison. She inhaled deeply and shook off the doubts. She had to try to help her or she couldn’t live with herself.

“You just sit tight for maybe five minutes, and then we’ll go inside.” Sophie laid her hands on Emma’s. “It’s going to be all right. I promise. Remember what I told you. You are in control here. You make your own decisions.”

She got out of the SUV and hugged Filly and then Arty. “My friend Em is in the car, and she’s going to be staying with me. She’s pretty tired, so I think we’ll go on inside and get unpacked.”

“Sure thing,” Filly said, “but she’s welcome.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours,” Arty told her.

“I’ll just get her inside, and then I’ll be out for supper,” Sophie whispered in Filly’s ear.

Before Filly and Arty could turn around, Emma stepped out of the SUV and nodded toward them. Her face had lost what little color it had, and her voice trembled. “Sophie told me about all of you. I’m very glad that she invited me to spend some time here.”

“We’re glad to have you. We got clam chowder for supper,” Arty said.

“And chocolate cake,” Filly added.

“That sounds delicious, but . . .” Emma looked longingly toward the trailer.

“Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll come out and get some for each of us,” Sophie said. “Em and I both have phone calls to make. It’s already past midnight where Teddy is, but I should send him a text at least. And Mama is expecting me to call as soon as we get here.”

“Of course,” Filly said. “I’m sure glad you’re here. Arty’s bein’ a jackass.”

“We just been spendin’ too much time together, and, woman”—he shook his finger at Filly—“don’t be a tattletale. Is Teddy going to come see us in a couple of weeks?”

“Yep, hopefully,” Sophie said. “He’s in Europe right now setting up things for my showing.”

“I can’t wait to see him,” Filly said. “If I was twenty years younger, I’d take that man away from you.”

“You’d have to be forty years younger and a helluva lot prettier.” Arty snorted as they walked back toward the supper table.

Emma’s eyes widened, so big that for a split second Sophie thought she might faint right there beside the SUV. Sophie looped her arm through Emma’s and led her toward the trailer. “They banter like that all